


love shouldn't be so melancholy

by tamagotchitadashi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Introspection, Irony, M/M, Short, Unhappy Ending, rated teen for death and swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9805079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagotchitadashi/pseuds/tamagotchitadashi
Summary: It is ironic, Issei thinks as he lies in bed, how similar Hanahaki sounds to Hanamaki.





	

It is ironic, Issei thinks as he lies in bed, how similar Hanahaki sounds to Hanamaki.

He lies in a mournful silence, staring up at the white swirls of paint on his ceiling, surrounded in petals that are such a taunting shade of pink that he wants to cry even more whenever he sees them.

He also thinks about how "Hana" means flower, and it almost causes him physical pain when pondering the cruel ways of irony behind his current predicament. 

He sometimes, only when it gets really bad, wishes he had never met Hanamaki Takahiro. He goes back on that thought quickly whenever he does think like that, because Issei feels like it is disrespectful to all the memories that he shares with his best friend.

Best friend.

Nothing more.

It is even more certain, now, that nothing romantic will come of the bond between them because Issei is literally on his deathbed - Has been for almost a month, now, with a thousand missed calls from a caller ID embellished with an emoji on the phone next to him, on the bedside table.

The emoji, of fucking course, is the pink flower one.

What else would it be, when life is such a despicable being, who is obviously set out on making Matsukawa Issei as miserable as he possibly can be before he inevitably dies, of a broken heart, no less?

Maybe he should've seen this coming.

He chokes out another bouquet of soft pink petals into his cupped hands and frowns down at them in distaste, before dropping them straight into the bin beside his bed with the rest. He has no idea why Hanahaki disease is romanticised by some people, like in the shitty shoujo manga that Hanamaki - why oh why does it always come back to Hanamaki?

He throws up another wad of the flowers and wallows in self pity.

His phone vibrates and the familiar ringtone he has for Hanamaki plays, the 8-bit remix of We Are Number One that he never bothered to change. Issei almost laughs at how honestly stupid it is that a song from Lazytown can make his mood go south so quickly.

His hand, for the first time in a while, moves to pick the phone up, and hovers over it, hesitating.

It jerks back after a few seconds, and he lets more of those godforsaken petals fall out of mouth, as well as the stinging tears from eyes.

It feels like the more he cries, either his throat shrinks or the flowers get bigger because he is choking.

He spits out the last of them for now and picks up his phone after a moment of wild, wailing thoughts. He opens his texts and tries not to read as many of Hanamaki's messages as he can.

issei: takahiro

issei: takahiro i'm sorry

issei: i loved you. i love you. that's the reason for all of this. i'll miss you, hiro.

It's vague as fuck, and sounds like something disgustingly angsty-teen-like, but he honestly just wants to stop fighting now. He just wants to let death consume him, as emo as that might sound.

And he lets it.

He lies back with closed eyes, turns off his phone and hugs it to his chest, his mind filled with a never-ending chorus of Takahiro, Takahiro, Takahiro.

He chokes up a wad so big that he chokes, dying peacefully with petals falling from his lips.

-

takahiro: issei!!!

takahiro: what do you mean? where have you been? whats wrong?

takahiro: issei?


End file.
